It's almost here, upon me, the wait is over. In thirty six hours time I'll wager good money that I will already, that very morning, have been through some elation, a host of agony and an eternity of self doubt. In forty hours time I will be relieved, hopefully delighted with my efforts, but relieved that the suffering is over for another year.
And what is this seeming monster looming? K2.
Same as always - Have I done enough quality training? Have I done the miles? Have I done the effort?
It's a great event, I have ridden it every year bar one. I have been reduced to a goggle-eyed dribble several times, have had some real joy and have enjoyed the challenge every time.
The very first year it was run, it was an unknown quantity. Three of us made the effort on the encouragement from The Reader from Mt Rascel, and joined another couple of hundred souls on the start line at Coromandel. The night before on the peninsula had delivered an epic thunder storm, it certainly made for a fretful night. On the day the organisers were uncertain as to how long it would take most of us, so we started at seven am, and were encouraged to carry lights, in case we rode into the other end of the day.
As it turned out, apart from a heavy shower of rain just after the midway point, the day was excellent, and we finished, weary and smiling in a warm, sunny Coromandel. I was foolish enough to believe that a twenty three rear would be a sufficient gear for Whangapoua, I was better prepared than those with only twenty ones, but I still chewed my bars, wrenched and groaned my way to the top that day.
Since then, every year I have enjoyed the day, the weather has been excellent and I have come away satisfied and smiling. This Saturday I want for those feelings again and a good, fun, safe day enjoying the challenge.
Imagine if your K2 were like the K2 in the Karakorum and 1 person died for every 4 people that finished successfully.
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